


flower language

by greenfoamsea



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends, Flowers, Fluff, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sapnap-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, friend to strangers to friends again to lovers???, george owns a flower shop and sapnap works there part time, hopefully, no beta we die like george in manhunt, swearing probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28480200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenfoamsea/pseuds/greenfoamsea
Summary: Sapnap plans to graduate high school without any regrets and definitely without any loose ends. The loosest of all of these ends is his long time crush on Dream, who drifts further and further away from him. So, he'll confess, but certainly not in person.or: senior year, anonymous notes, making up for lost time, and a cozy little flower shop on smp street.also crossposted on wattpad!
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 156





	1. ch 1 ✿ oxyen daisy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sapnap needs help. George provides it.

It was George's idea.

Of course it was, really. Sapnap would never come up with this. He's not some poet or artist and he's _certainly_ not a romantic. His plan going into this was as simple as a few passing words, maybe a text if he was lazy enough. But no, _no_ , melodramatic George just _had_ to butt his head into the mix and give him some stupid, flowery (pun intented) idea that only romcoms and fan fiction writers could come up with.

It starts with his shift at the flower shop on a warm spring afternoon. Winter just passed in their small town and the last bits of snow finally melt away to reveal the bright sky and green grass of springtime. Frankly, it's Sapnap's favorite season for how colorful and lively the place is. Still, he doesn't have too much time to stop and appreciate his surroundings.

He's already met with a judgmental glare from mismatched eyes by the time he's stopped at the front of the store. The ravenette pants heavily, schoolbag slung carelessly to the side as he catches his breath.

It doesn't take long for the silence to break, a long sigh elicting itself from his coworker, "You're late _again_ , Sapnap. What is it, the third time this week? You're going to get yourself fired."

"Geooorge!" Sapnap whines, pressing himself against the counter as he stares back at his friend, "You know I don't have a ride anymore! I mean Quackity quit, what do you expect from me? You should be pitying me for having to run all the way here!" He punctuates his statement with a punch to the skinnier man's arm, letting out yet another whiny cry as he does so.

The latter only returns his words with a soft huff, being sure to throw the boy's apron at his face when he finds it, "I mean later than usual. At least ten minutes more. Something wrong?"

George can see the way he tenses, the way his fingers flex around the fabric, and how Sapnap's mouth closes swiftly right after opening to retort. He doesn't miss the slight coloration in his cheeks either. Huh.

The two fall into comfortable silence afterwards as the day at the shop starts. On weekdays, it's relatively slow and rarely ever exciting. Occasionally, one of them talk to a window shopper or explain the difference between a nosegay and posy bouquet, but nothing really catches onto them as the time passes. It's only a matter of time before break comes rolling in, the sun slowly setting off in the horizon.

Very rarely do George and Sapnap ever talk about anything serious. Usually, their breaks consist of exploring Twitter or Tiktok and laughing at something stupid for the next thirty minutes. Sometimes they do end up talking about something a little more deep, but it never gets personal. As the two scroll aimlessly through their phones, it's Sapnap who suddenly breaks that little rule between them.

"How do you tell someone you like them?" The words are abrupt and barely audible. George would of thought he didn't say it at all if not for the way Sapnap's eyes bore into his.

"What?" He asks, just to be sure he heard that correctly. The raven glances away, just for a moment, before they turn back ever so sure.

"How do you tell someone you like them?" He repeats, louder than before. When he's met with silence, he supposes he's gone too far to try clamming up now. Sapnap draws in a breath before he continues, "I... I like someone. Have for a while. Six years? Something like that." He laughs, but it isn't very funny to him.

George blinks at him, a little surprised. Of all the people the passionate firecracker goes to for love advice of all things, it's him. Well, it's easy, right?

"Just- I don't know, say it? Go up to him and tell him?" He offers, shrugging. Sapnap chuckles again, more dry than the last. It makes the other frown just slightly.

"If it was that easy we wouldn't be here. Georgie, I'm way too late on the mark for that. He's already left me, dude," There's a sad smile on the boy's face, "We stopped talking like two years ago, but here's my dumb ass still catching feels, haha..."

The silence hangs heavy in the room once more. Sapnap lets out a long sigh, clenching and unclenching his fists carefully.

"I need a way to tell him everything. _Everything._ Without him knowing it was ever me. I'm not going to live my life without letting it out and I'm not going to graduate unless he knows just how much I... Well..."

George wants to laugh. The poor guy can't even say the l-word. In it's own way, it's endearing and definitely something the older has never seen on him. Sure, it's a little strange, watching Sapnap get all clammy and quiet, but it's welcome. He places a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder, giving a tentative squeeze as some sort of support. He can see the shock on his face, knowing it's rare for the brunette to give out any sort of physical touch.

"I've got your back on whatever you decide to do, you know that? Don't worry. Did you think about anything before this?" He asks, watching Sapnap's expression. He can see the worry blossom into relief almost instantly, warming his heart.

"Glad you asked! I got nothing!" He responds with one of his goofy grins, a common sight, "It's why I'm asking you! I mean, you're the old, old man here, surely you've got _something_ in that big brain." The younger flicks his forehead and laughs, watching him reel back with a flinch.

Even if the mood feels like it's shifted, George can't help but feel just a little tense. Feelings are hard. How Sapnap managed to be so stupid with love for six years and how his overbearing self managed to keep it all under wraps for that long is really a mystery to him. Being loud and sassy as he is, he figures it'd only take him minutes before he was exclaiming his love to everyone he saw.

"Huh," George pauses before a lightbulb goes off, it suddenly dawning on him, "You said you didn't want to say it out loud, right? Then... Use words. Write it." He offers, meeting inky blue irises.

"Like... A text?"

"No. Paper. _Write_ it down. Then shove it in his locker or something." Sapnap's eyes widen before they suddenly close in laughter.

He's laughing. Sapnap's _giggling_ , of course he is. Between his cries, he breathes out something about how cliche it is, but George can't really make it out between all the cackling. He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest as he mumbles, "You asked for my help-"

"I know! I know! It's just-" More laughing. It takes Sapnap at least another minute to gather himself, "Where are we?! You're actually joking! You really think that's going to work?"

"You wanted anonymity and you want to get your feelings out. I don't see why not." George states again in a matter-of-fact tone, watching the ravenette slowly consider it for real this time. Damn him and his ever authoritative aura. Soon enough, Sapnap's gaze averts once, trying to find anything to look at except for the other. The former takes note of the way his eyes dart around the room and how his cheeks take on a familiar red hue.

"I'm not a good writer. And my handwriting doesn't even look that good!" He starts. It's dumb. It's absolutely insane and it never works. They don't live in a romcom and his crush is smarter than that. He'll know the minute someone opens his locker.

Still, it doesn't seem like the brunette has any trouble dodging his responses, "Well, if he was right in front of you, what would you tell him? Right now, if it was the perfect moment to confess."

"That's embarrassing-"

"Sapnap, just say it!" He gets an elbow in his side as George exclaims, walking off to presumably get a pen and paper. Sapnap sighs in defeat, rubbing his side as he grumbles out responses and tries to gather his thoughts.

_What I'd say...._

The rest of the break passes in a blur, bleeding just slightly into their work. It's not like anyone came in, and it's not like anyone knew.

Once again, it was all George's idea. Down to the small bundle of white daisies Sapnap twists in his hand the next day, note clutched in his other hand.

_"It's a nice touch," The older insists, "And it's on my tab. Just another way to say 'I've liked you for a really long time'" He says._

Sapnap can't will himself to say it's love. It stopped being love when Dream stopped looking at him. When he stopped calling him Pandas. Stopped responding to his texts and calling him at midnight and telling him everything would be alright while he sobbed into his pillow.

It's crowded in the hallway. The senior has to thank his lucky stars that life moves fast at school, that no one would ever notice him stopping by a locker that wasn't his. He still remembers the code, all the way from freshman year.

Sapnap's heart threatens to leap out of his chest when the metal door creaks open for him at last. It's realtively empty in Dream's locker, save for his textbooks and a few pictures. One of them is familiar to the boy, something they took in their middle school days. Dream loops his arm over Sapnap's shoulder with a toothy grin while he puts up a peace sign and makes a silly face. They look so young. They promised they'd be friends forever. Hah.

The flowers and note are haphazardly shoved into the locker, knowing he's already overstayed his welcome. His hands are clamming up and his face is getting warm. Sapnap's very, very careful not to slam the door shut and to get as far away as he can from the hall. He's already late. George will understand.

-  
There's a lot of mistakes on the page, many crossed out, some erased. ~~Dear, Dream. Hello. To whom it may concern. Yo.~~ It takes a long time before the note really starts.

_Hi._

_I've liked you for a long, long, long time. Too long. I'm too much of a coward to tell you in your face anymore, so I'll say it here._

_You're beautiful. And you laugh like a tea kettle. And you smell like axe and you like vanilla ice cream. And if I could kiss you I would. But I can't._

_We're graduating in a few months. I know you're gonna do great things when you're gone._

_Feel free to throw this away. I'm comfortable knowing I had the balls to even give this to you._

_P.S. Hope you like the flowers. Daisies mean new beginnings, I think. I wasn't really listening to the florist._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! i've been playing with this little concept for a very long time. idk if it'll be finished, but i at least wanted to put it out there! hope it's good, expect at least one more chapter after this one.


	2. ch 2 ✿ poppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week later, Sapnap's encounter with Dream stretches much, much longer than he anticipates.

Sapnap won't lie to himself. It worked.

If it didn't, then why does he feel way more free? After leaving that note, it's as if everything just fell into place. It's become easier to sleep as his thoughts are no longer plagued by forest green eyes or star shaped freckles. His heart doesn't feel as heavy when he goes through his camera roll. All in all, Sapnap's just been happier. He could care less about what Dream did with his note, his flowers. They're probably in some trash bin, the senior tells himself as he presses his own locker shut.

He doesn't care. Not at all.

"Something got you worked up, dude?" Karl asks as he trails behind him, head leaned against the adjacent locker, "You're doing that thing again, when you mess with your bandana even when it's fine." He notes, gently nudging the arm that tugs on the white fabric.

Okay. Maybe he cares a little. It's all a little bittersweet. Sapnap certainly wasn't expecting a response to an anonymous note, but it still makes him anxious. He huffs, glancing over to his friend before returning his nudge with a light shove.

"Shut up, Karl." He adds mechanically, sharing a grin with the boy before walking ahead. There's only so much time to catch someone after school, so he's sure to be at least a little hasty as he walks.

"What'd you need to get?" Karl asks, leaning over to stare at the brown paper bag the other got. If Sapnap's fists clenched a little too hard and crinkled the bag, he didn't bring it up.

"Mama made bread and wants me to give it to Dream. His family likes this stuff." He shrugs as if it's no big deal, but his voice tilts when he says the blonde's name.

These sort of things are routine. Their families still assume they're friends, so they tend to see each other far too often for Sapnap's liking. One of their moms made a little too much of something, so they put it on the boys to deliver it. If someone's car breaks down, the other is expected to provide carpool. To put it as short as possible, the two families are each other's emergency contacts and nothing with ever change that, especially their oldest sons drifting ever farther apart.

Karl's' brows furrow just slightly, but once again he doesn't say anything. He knows that his friend has been keeping secrets from him, at first hanging the idea over his head just barely out of reach before completely denying it ever happened. At the end of it all though, that's just how his friend likes to function and he can't really tell him not to act up like that.

"Stay here, yeah? For me?" The ravenette asks, staring out into the parking lot. He sees Karl nod, giving him a gentle, comforting smile. Looking for Dream isn't particularly difficult, but it does everything it needs to make Sapnap anxious out of his mind. Usually, their interactions consist of a lot of shifting glances and staring at the floor, but this time he feels as if it'd be different. He's still running on the adrenaline that note gave him, and this would be the first time he's tried talking to the other since he did so.

In short, if he can make it here, he'll make it anywhere.

"Sap," Said boy turns over his shoulder to see whose called him. Forest green bores into inky blue, but he's quick to break eye contact as Dream continues, "Your mom texted."

They don't even have each other's numbers anymore. Hah.

"Right, yeah," Sapnap is quick to put on a small smile, handing the bag to the taller blonde, "She said you can have these. She also says hi." He hums, shrugging. He forces his hand down from his bandana, sure to not give the other any tells that he's nervous. If Karl could sense his fear, Dream was surely smelling it from a mile away.

He notes the way the blonde's eyes light up at the sight of baked bread. His mom does it the best, he has to admit. "Thanks!" He says brightly, smiling at the bag. Sapnap doesn't feel his heart skip. Not at all.

When he glances back at where Karl was standing, there's a severe lack of baggy sweaters and high pitched giggles. As if on cue, he feels a light hum in his back pocket.

 _Karl_  
My dad's been honking at me for the past minute-  
Sorry dude  
Good luck

Sapnap huffs out a sigh at the sight, roughly pocketing his phone once more. No ride, no problem. When he glances beside him, it becomes apparent that Dream never left. Why that is, the ravenette would never know, but he guesses he can make use of the opportunity.

He's quick on the draw. Dream knows everything, of course, "Need a ride?" He offers. If there was any indignation in his tone, Sapnap doesn't bother addressing it. Instead, he walks over to the blonde's car, silently humming back a yes.

The car smells more smokey than he remembers, stressing him out just a bit. It takes some time for Dream to start the car, supposedly texting his mom or something along those lines. Sapnap doesn't expect anything eventful from the ride and passes the time on his phone while bobbing his head carelessly to the radio. If this were freshman year, maybe they'd strike up a conversation or belt their lungs out until their throats were sore, but the blonde keeps his eyes on the road and his lips sealed.

Clean cut lawns and white picket fences meet Sapnap's peripherals in the window. This isn't his street.

"Why are we stopping at your house?" He cuts through the silence, a little harsher than he intended the words to come out. Dream parks the car before he answers back.

"My mom wanted me to pick something up. As a thanks for the bread, I guess." He says, stepping out of the car. Sapnap doesn't follow until his door is opened, startling him just slightly, "You can come in." The blonde doesn't look at him when he offers. It sounds mechanical and settles a pit in the boy's stomach.

He hesitates before he stands, walking down the familiar cobblestone path to the door. The Dream household is a classic one in a well-to-do neighborhood, just as everyone expects from the tall, lovable sweetheart of seniors. It brings back memories of simpler times that Sapnap would rather not reflect on at this moment.

He takes a seat on the couch to text his mom, counting the seconds until Dream gets back. His eyes wander aimlessly, landing on the tv, then the remote, then the little vase filled with daisies, then back to the tv.

Wait. He thought Dream's sister was allergic to pollen. 

The ravenette leans forward, taking a careful hand to the porcelain. It's just a plain white vase, incredibly unremarkable, but that's not what he came here for. The bundle of flowers dumps itself into his hand just the way they were a week ago, if not a little damp. Dream has a green thumb, it seems. 

Why would he save the flowers? Maybe they aren't his, Sapnap rationalizes. Maybe someone just brought home a random bunch of daisies and they wanted to preserve it. Anyone could do that. The flowers are quickly returned to their rightful place when the boy hears footsteps, rushing himself to look natural once more. He doesn't look up from his phone again until he's knocked on the head by a plastic container. 

He hisses at the dull pain, glaring up at the blonde who just smiles back. The younger is quick to look away and take the tupperware. He scolds himself mentally, for how good it feels to be looked at like that. He shakes the package tentatively, but doesn't need to guess for much longer.

"Drista made cookies. Thought you'd like them." Dream explains, sitting down as Sapnap abruptly stands. 

"Yeah." He forces a nonchalant, dry tone into his voice, walking towards the door, "I'll just walk home. Thanks again, Dream." He says, clearing his throat and walking out, only to be met with rain. Not heavy, just some spring showers. The raven frowns, sighing. Whatever.

"Do you have an umbrella I could borrow?"  
  
"You could just stay." 

The response is immediate and possesses only hope. Sapnap wishes he was making that up. The green eyed boy had followed him to the door and was already leaning over to close it once the other paced back inside.

"Stay," He says, testing the waters. When Sapnap doesn't respond, he sees that as his cue to continue, "It's just been a while since you've come over. Just until the rain stops, then you can walk home or ask someone to pick you up or... Whatever." 

It's so easy to argue. If they just drove here, then Dream could drive him home too. His heart tightens when he even considers saying no. It sucks, how easily the other man undoes all of his hard work in staying afloat. How easily he gets Sapnap drowning in even the slightest idea of love. 

He lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding and shrugs, "Just until the rain stops," The boy repeats, kicking off his shoes and staring at the ground, "Sorry to make you do this." He adds, walking back to the couch.

In the corner of his eye, he sees Dream's smile widen. He can hear it in his voice too, "No worries, Pandas."

Sapnap wonders if Dream knows what he's doing to him. He wonders if, just for a day, he should allow himself to forget three years of ignorance. They lock eyes as they land on the couch. 

Yeah. He can lie to himself, just for a little bit. 

\- 

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but when there's something shaking at his shoulder and when he has to wipe the grogginess out of his eyes, he can only assume so many things. Blinking slowly, he meets Dream's green eyes. He almost wants to fall asleep again, forcing himself back into his thoughts to avoid his piercing gaze.

"-nap, Sapnap!" It's nearly impossible to do so when someone's screaming in your ear like that. Said boy groans, shoving away the taller as he sits up. The soft groan and following wheeze of laughter is music to his ears. 

"You're the worst." Sapnap mumbles, stretching out, making Dream laugh harder. He checks his phone. It's been two hours. There's ten messages and six missed calls, all of which from his parents. Lovely. 

When he finally calms himself, Dream continues, "Your dad's outside to pick you up. Don't forget your cookies." He reminds the other while he slips on his shoes. The sun is setting outside and it's still raining, but not hard enough to warrant staying inside again. The ravenette hears his dad's car honking, loud and blaring and definite contrast to the quiet suburban street. 

"See you?" The blonde asks. Sapnap doesn't respond. He hears the door close behind him and without turning back, he runs to the car.

It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Awkward and tense, but not horrible in the least bit. He drums his fingers against the top of the tupperware to the beat of the song, idly watching streets pass while they drive home. 

The cookies were good, according to his parents. Sapnap doesn't particularly care, that's not what was on his mind. Rather, he wondered what flowers matched the note he was writing in his head.

\- 

_Hi again._

_I didn't want to write you another note. I thought the first one was cringe-y enough, but I stand corrected. So I'm doing this again._

_I had a dream about you. I just wanted to say that, as weird and creepy as it sounds. I don't really remember it either. I just know you were that, and that made me really happy._

_I haven't been sleeping well lately. I think I have insomnia. Sorry for sharing._

_I was kind of upset when I woke up. I wanted to stay for just a little longer. It's been a while since I've felt that good._

_Throw away this note too. I hope you threw away the first one._

_P.S. This time, I left poppies. I actually know this one, they mean sleep. The florist also told me they mean death, and said I shouldn't give them to you, but I like them. I hope you do too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't like this too much fellas, i won't lie, but it could be worse? idk i could've done better. anyways, i'm almost out of ideas. next chapter might be the last one unless i come up with something. i might at least do a proper ending, but it would be really rushed since there's no inbetween. i'll try my best though. thank you for all the support btw <3


	3. ch 3 ✿ blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream's been smitten by his secret admirer and will get to the bottom of who's behind these notes. He finds himself at a flower shop on SMP street.

The first time it happened, Dream has to admit he was a little thrown off. Something about receiving notes and flowers in his locker felt... Elementary. Childish. But at the same time, it filled his stomach with butterflies.

He finds it all a little charming. How this person was in such a rush and so to the point, completely tactless and uncaring to romance him. The mistakes and scribbles across the page. Dream would argue this person putting in effort to make themself unattractive.

_Feel free to throw this away._

Dream almost listened to those words. Actually, no. He did listen to those words, if only for a few passing moments. At the end of it all though, he felt bad and fished the note out of his statistic teacher's trash can, profusely apologizing to the jaded old man as he scurried away. He just couldn't will himself to break someone's heart, even if they'd never know.

He asked his mom if he could dump the pens out of one of their vases to keep the flowers. They're nice, in his opinion. And they mean new beginnings. Dream needs one of those.

He taped the note to his wall after leaving it under a few books as some feeble attempt at smoothing it out again. It would never be the same pristine, smooth white it was before, but Dream supposes that's just another thing he gets to fuck up in his lifetime.

Other than that though, he didn't really address things in his romantic life, or lack there of. He knew how his school worked, that it was as easy as putting some sort of tweet, asking if anyone was leaving notes at his locker, but that was problematic in it's own right. Causing chaos this late into the year wasn't what he wanted. He did want closure, but was sure this person just wanted to let it out and never talk about it ever again. That was fine by him.

With that said, he couldn't stop grinning to himself the second time it happened.

The second time he saw a note in his locker, he worked his damned hardest not to scream with joy. They're back, and even if the note was just as short and strange, Dream couldn't help but feel giddy for knowing this person bothered to talk to him again.

He figures that's why he's so determined to find out who this is. It's been another week with no note, which is slightly depressing, but he's been busying himself with other things while he waits. Mostly walks around the city, searching for flower shops that sell poppies and daisies in little bunches such as the ones he received.

He's not stupid enough to assume any old clerk would let him go through customers, rifling through until he found a familiar name, but he could at least get a general feel of who could of given him the flowers. So far, after five days of wandering the city for red and white flowers, he's came out empty handed.

He's also learned there are a lot of flower shops in the city, something he didn't anticipate when he started. In a five mile radius from the high school, he counted seven so far, all of which told him they didn't sell flowers like that. Well. Number eight.

Shop eight is the smallest establishment he's run into, shoved between a suspicious looking bodega and an arcade that got shut down recently. This area isn't his favorite place to be, as SMP street is always crowded and always a little too loud. Still, he pushes on and walks through the doors.

"Welcome." A dry, monotonous, _familiar_ voice greets him, causing Dream to look up at the counter. Well, this is a shocker.

"George?" He tests, watching blue and brown eyes tilt towards him. Yep.

"Dream?" The other mirrors his tone, a smile tugging helplessly at his lips. The aforementioned blonde grins back, prompting George to scoff and turn away again, "I didn't expect a visit from my least favorite freshman today."

Four years ago. The memories are vivid to the brunette, as a cocky freshman with bright green eyes and a mouth full of metal enters their school's subpar coding class. When George was a senior, Dream was already in their advanced classes, ready to show off just how good his skills were. As a senior, he never expected forming any sort of relationship with a freshman, but something about Dream was so inviting and welcoming, as annoying as he was. Some of George's most fond memories of senior year are late night coding sessions and early morning coffee runs with the young teen. Four years later...

Dream's grin widens, "You missed me, don't lie to yourself Georgie!" He laughs, wheezing between the kissy faces he makes towards the older. George rolls his eyes, heart warming with nostalgia. Nothing changes.

"If you're only here to harass me, I'll have someone throw you out. Buy something and leave." He states, coarse as ever, "You don't get to come into my shop and mess around, okay?"

"Your shop?" The blonde asks, stepping back to look around before his eyes land on the florist again, "You own this? I thought you went to school computer science?"

"Then my mom died and she needed her only son to hold up the family business," Dream's eyes widen before he notices the way George's lips twitch. He laughs, shaking his head, "Still so easy to fool. You've gotta get better at that, Dream. Not everything you hear is true, c'mon now."

He laughs harder as Dream guffaws and tries to defend himself, not that he's really listening in the first place, "My mom really does own this shop, but she's going to retire soon. And she really does want her only son to hold up the family business." He explains, shrugging gently, "And no, I don't mind. It's nice."

He sees the cogs turning in Dream's brain as his mouth opens then shuts, nodding, "Alright, alright. Just asking. This sort of work kind of suits you actually! I'm not gonna judge you-"

"I know you won't, I didn't ask." George cuts in, smiling, "Once again, if you're not going to buy something, please leave. It was nice catching up with you, Dream."

"Wait, wait, wait!" He says as George turns away, "I actually need your help-" He says, though he's still given the cold shoulder. He huffs, running a hand through his hair before rummaging through his school bag. A familiar note is dumped onto the countertop, next to some poppies.

"I was given this like... Almost a week ago now. Does any of this look familiar at all?" He doesn't see the way the brunette's expression twitches, breaking his ever blank façade just slightly.

"No," He answers simply, coolly, picking up the paper and reading it over, slower than he normally would as to not tip off recognizing it, "Someone just handed all of this to you?"

"Left it in my locker," Dream corrects, "I've been looking for the person who gave me all of this, and I was wondering if anyone from the school's been passing by here."

George's lips tighten into a line before he starts again, "It says here that this isn't the first time you've gotten something like this. What'd you do with the other notes?" Divert attention away from the writer - from _Sapnap._ After being so bold as to write these things and leave them for Dream, George figures the least he can do is keep his secrets.

"I left the other one at home, but I got daisies if that's what you're wondering," Dream shrugs, "Does anyone else work here other than you? I don't wanna bother you too much."

"Some people who go to the high school, yeah," He says, too quick even for his own mind. He hesitates to continue, unsure how much he can say before Dream unravels this little mystery of his, "Quackity? You know him? He quit last semester, something about becoming vice president and having too much on his plate." If it weren't for how dire the situation was, maybe George would let himself laugh at the memory, how dramatic his resignation was.

He sees Dream nod in his peripherals, silent as he pieces together the puzzle. "Anyone else?"

George's response is too quick once again, "Sa..."  
...

"...m. Sam. Remember him from coding? Yeah, he stops by sometimes." He saves, holding his breath.

Dream's brows furrow, as if that's not the answer he wants to hear. It isn't, not at all. Quackity's too rash to leave messages like these, not to mention being a junior. And Sam doesn't even _go_ to their school anymore, transferred or something. When the blonde tries to look back at George, he's already turned away, certainly hiding his mismatched eyes from the other. Huh.

He lets out a rough sigh, shaking his head as he wanders over to look at the flowers. Despite his friend's colorblindness, he's incredibly good at arrangements and color matching.   
  
"You're sure no one else works here? I haven't gotten any real answers here, Georgie." He asks, running his hands over an orange bouquet, filled to the brim with tiger lilies and sunflower. 

"Yes, don't touch the arrangements. Are you leaving yet? I can't really tell you anything you know." The other responds, a sarcastic tilt in his voice matching the ghost of a smile on his face. 

I can't really tell you anything. Dream doesn't ask what that means, but files that away for later. 

"Right, right. George?" He pauses in front of a group of blue flowers. Something dawns on him. 

George hums back, looking up as Dream twirls a flower between his fingers. He recognizes that look in his eyes. Little green bastard has something planned.

"Help me write a note to someone." He smiles. George's mouth hangs open for only a few seconds before it snaps shut. This. Got complicated. 

\- 

It comes to a point where George has to physically shove Dream out of the shop to get him to leave, the blonde far too entertained with messing around and writing romantic poems that lead to nowhere. They finished the note a while ago, but Dream isn't expected to be home and it's not like anyone is going to the flower shop any time soon. Still, he says his goodbyes and scribbles his phone number on a stray piece of paper before taking his leave and walking out the door.

Spring evenings are kind of cold and Dream wishes he brought a jacket. The bodega is still open, shoddy LED lights blinding him from tens of feet away. Coffee sounds good at six pm, does it not? He enters the lonely shop, only tuning back into the scene when he hears high pitched giggles and low toned laughs.

"What the honk, Sapnap?!" That's Karl's voice, Dream recalls as he walks along, navigating for the voice. It's followed by more laughing and loud shushing. Dream turns the corner, just for a glance.

"Shut up, Karl! Like, actually be quiet before someone sees, dude-" Sapnap's whisper yelling, but it's all to clear to Dream. 

He sees the ravenette, who's gathering candy bars and chips off the floor while giggling, shoulders shaking and smiling wide. It's been a while since Dream's seen him that happy, recalling how his shoulders tensed and his lips sealed the day they talked. He's not supposed to feel bad about it, he's supposed to be glad that his... That Sapnap is feeling better.

Four years ago, maybe they'd be standing in this bodega, laughing at each other in one second and hushing each other the next. They'd trash this place, knock down every shelf then clean it up and laugh about it all over again the next day.

Maybe, four years ago, they would have done this after going to the movies. Or that arcade down the way, right before it closed it's walls. Maybe, just maybe, they could of been doing something like that together now. Dream digresses, knowing Karl is the better choice.

He's quick to make his paper cup of watery coffee, diluted further with copious amounts of cream and sugar. He doesn't spare the duo a glance as he walks through the door, whistling to the bell that chimes above him. He walks home.

Alone. 

\- 

Sapnap doesn't really know why he's here again, at Dream's locker the next day. He swore to himself that last time was the _last time._ That he got everything out and he could live on without Dream. And yet, George told him he needed to write another note, at least one last time. He didn't really think about this one too hard, mostly just scribbling down generic phrases and doodling s-shapes in the corner, idly of course. 

Still, he's here. And he doesn't know why. For the third time, Sapnap opens the blonde's locker with his free hand as the other gently clutches a few blue orchids. Rarity and intelligence, he thinks George told him. He doesn't really care.

What he doesn't expect is a pristine white envelope, some blue cornflowers taped to the front. He hesitates to take the parcel, shaking hands picking off the tape and tearing apart the envelope. Sapnap doesn't put much care in being discrete about his exit, tossing his own notes and flowers haphazardly on top of Dream's textbooks and slamming the door shut before making a manic sprint. If he's quick, he can read the note, shove it in his pocket, and avoid George's knowing stares and teasing smirks.

-

_Hello._

_Thank you for the notes. You're good at writing. And keeping secrets. I'm kind of impressed I don't know who you are yet._

_Can you tell me more about yourself sometime? I know you're a senior, like me. And an insomniac. You seem cute, just based on how you write. And kind of insecure. If I knew who you were, I'm sure you wouldn't let me down._

_Is it weird that I like you? I don't even know if you're a girl or a guy, not that I really care. Don't go telling anyone that, if this is really some elaborate scheme to call me gay. Fuck you if it is._

_Back to it. I like you. I don't know who you are but each time you sent a note, you made me want to figure out more and more. I've been to like eight flower shops looking for you. Do you actually like flowers by the way? Or are they just picked off of your neighbor's lawn or something?_

_I know you like to end your notes by telling me to throw them away. Don't throw this away. If you ever see me again, I want you to give me this note back. I want to see you._

_P.S. The flowers are called cornflowers, I think. Stupid name in my opinion. The florist told me they mean hope, but I just thought they were pretty. I guess I "hope" you're reading this. And I "hope" you'll bring this back to me._

_P. P. S. Here's my number. Call me. ;)._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not usually proud of my writing, but i had a lot of fun with this one. dream pov!! lowkey angst? freshman year. expect more expanding on those events... eventually. also sapnap has dream's number now! wooooo!! would you guys mind if i went chatfic on this and had like? one chapter of just them texting and flerting. just one. probably. yeah.
> 
> thank you for reading!! your support has been amazing and it's really motivated me to continue this!! of course, school may be starting soon, so i can't pump out updates as much as i would like but i'll try my best to keep it up!
> 
> last thing fellas. discord server??? hahaha. maybe. i don't really know.


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